The CEO's Regret: Darling, Don’t Leave Me novel Chapter 36

Chapter 24: More Than a Friendship?-1

Clara

Alexander stopped just before reaching one of the smaller, more intimate groups in the room. It wasn’t by chance. I could tell by his posture, by the way he adjusted his smile before looking at me.

“I want to introduce you to someone,” he said quietly. “It’s important.”

I didn’t ask anymore. I nodded.

The man I was talking to was older, perfectly combed gray hair, impeccable dark suit. The kind that doesn’t need to raise their voices to be heard.

Alexander waited for a natural pause in the conversation and then spoke.

“Mr. Whitmore,” he said, “let me introduce you to my partner, Clara Sinclair.”

The man turned to me with measured curiosity. He looked at me attentively, unhurriedly, as if he were

looking for something he hadn’t yet decided to name.

“Sinclair?” he repeated, he paused shortly, dangerously. “Sinclair… like Octavio Sinclair?”

I felt something expand in my chest. It was no surprise. It was recognition.

“Yes,” I answered. “He’s my father.”

His eyebrows were barely raised, just enough for anyone to notice the impact.

“Wow,” he smiled.

in full expansion.”

I’ve known your father for many years. We did business when the Sinclair Company was

Alexander glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, clearly attentive to the reaction.

“I didn’t know that Octavio Sinclair’s daughter was a businesswoman,” the man continued. “I always. thought he had decided to stay out of the spotlight.”

I took a deep breath, without lowering my gaze.

“For a while it was like that,” I said. “But I decided to build my own path.”

The man nodded slowly, as if evaluating something that has just acquired a new value.

“That says a lot,” he said. “Octavio was always a brilliant man, but also demanding. Not everyone dares to carry that surname… and do it well.”

His comment was not out of touch with reality. It was not an empty compliment. I knew it by the tone. Because of the way he looked at me afterward.

I felt pride, not the heavy kind, but the kind that sustains.

“My father taught me that the name opens doors,” I replied, “but that work is the only thing that keeps

them open.

Alexander smiled then, clearly pleased.

“That explains a great deal,” said Mr. Whitmore. “The way they presented the proposal… It was impeccable.

I’ve heard from your company at this event, by the way, congratulations on that contract.”

My cheeks slowly blush with that compliment.

We talked for a few more minutes. Of markets, of long-term vision, of possible alliances. Nothing

superficial. Not at all condescending.

When he said goodbye, he shook my hand firmly.

“I hope we will talk again soon, Miss Sinclair. I think your company is going to give a lot to talk about.”

“It will be a pleasure,” I answered.

As he walked away, Alexander exhaled gently, as if he was only now allowing himself to relax.

“I didn’t know much about the history of your surname, Clara,” he admitted. “Or who your father was.”

2

“I don’t usually use it as an introduction,” I said.

“You don’t need it,” he replied without hesitation. “But I’m not going to deny that… it impresses.”

I looked at him. And for the first time that night, it wasn’t a professional look.

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